


A Beautiful Friendship

by ANGSWIN



Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, DW: Post - Doomsday, Female Friendship, Gen, Healer/Patient, Neighbor au, Not HP Epilogue Compliant, Pete's World (Doctor Who), Pete's World Torchwood, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Torchwood (TV) References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28915164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANGSWIN/pseuds/ANGSWIN
Summary: Two neighbors...both with secrets to keep...finally realize that they might not be so different after all.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Rose Tyler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: X-Ship - The Crossover Flash Exchange





	A Beautiful Friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 X-Ship Crossover Exchange  
> Requested Gen Pairing: Hermione Granger & Rose Tyler
> 
> It seems reasonable to me that the HP universe could be set in Pete's World. Therefore, this story takes place there several years after Rose was stranded during “Doomsday."

Hermione apparated straight to her flat from St. Mungos and immediately sank tiredly down onto her sofa after her long shift. After all, it had been a full moon on the previous night. Therefore, during the day, she had treated more of her lycanthropy-infected patients than usual for unintentional self-injuries...as well as a host of other maladies from the rest of her specialized clientele, as well. 

Consequently, she did not regret her decision to quickly get home by magical means instead of the much slower muggle ways that she usually took. In fact, she just sighed in relief as she kicked off her shoes right as Crookshanks joined her there and curled up on her lap. As she stroked the elderly feline and listened to his purrs, her balance was slowly restored, and she was grateful, yet again, that the comforting sound was all that she could hear. In fact, that was why she had decided to use her hard-earned savings to buy the well-constructed flat in the quiet muggle building - instead of staying with Harry and Ginny at Grimmauld Place. As much as she loved her friends and her magic, she definitely needed her own private space...as well as a way to stay connected to her non-magical heritage. 

She had obviously chosen well, too, since her small building was full of other hardworking professionals who were not inclined to party – with the exception of the occasional low key gathering – a few of which she had even attended. Also, even though the place had been pricey, she loved the fact that it was also very private with only two units on each floor. That made it easily defensible if necessary, as well – even though she knew that was not the reason most people would have chosen it. However, Hermione had definitely never been “most people.” After all, she had spent her childhood fighting a magical war...and some things always stuck with you. 

Security was not the only benefit, however. Less flats on her level also meant that she had less people from whom she had to hide her magic. In fact, it turned out that she only had one neighbor...a friendly and energetic blonde named Rose. 

Hermione got along with Rose very well. Unfortunately, they did not get to socialize as much as they would have liked since they both seemed to work crazy and inconsistent hours. Nevertheless, they did often tend to encounter each other in their private corridor during their comings and goings...and they managed to have a few conversations at those times, as well. Once they had even been able to share a commiserate bottle of wine after Hermione had returned home early from a particularly disastrous blind date. 

Consequently, from that slightly drunken conversation, Hermione learned that Rose had only ever really been in love once - but that the man was no longer in the picture for whatever reason. The woman, however, had become maudlin and withdrawn at that point and would not...or could not...elaborate, so Hermione did not push for details. After all, she was all too familiar with the concept of failed relationships and told her neighbor so. Nevertheless, she also found out that night that Rose _really_ loved chips and that she had a slightly overbearing mother who had a passion for Humphrey Bogart movies, just like Hermione's parents had. 

Hermione had even met Rose’s best friend a couple of times, a friendly and nice-looking bloke named Mickey. Apparently, they worked together, as well, and seemed to share a very similar relationship to the one she had with Harry. However, other than all of that...even though Rose was very personable...she was also a _very_ private person. Therefore, Hermione did not know anything else, not even _exactly_ what Rose did for a living. 

All her neighbor had told her was that she worked for a “security firm.” Nevertheless, Hermione could not help but to notice that Rose would sometimes leave in the morning in a smart business suit, but return late at night wearing a dark military style field uniform complete with heavy boots and some kind of holster on her hip – often looking quite disheveled and a bit worse for wear in the process. She had also seen that both Rose and Mickey drove big nondescript black Land Rovers, the kind of vehicles stereotypically used by government organizations that wanted to remain anonymous. Consequently, it was quite obvious to her that Rose had secrets to keep. 

However, who was Hermione to judge? After all, even though she had also seen the occasional speculative look thrown her way from Rose, the other woman had never questioned the impression that Hermione had purposely cultivated - that she was a simple holistic nurse. She was glad, too, because the witch, war heroine, and high level healer who specialized in the treatment of magical beings was also just trying to live a quiet and inconspicuous life despite all of that. Therefore, she left well enough alone and was grateful that Rose did the same. When it came down to it, Hermione and Rose just accepted each other at face value and did not ask awkward questions. That was why they made such good neighbors. 

~~~~~ 

On the particular night in question, however, something happened to shake up their usual comfortable, no-questions-asked, neighborly living arrangement. As Hermione sat there after her long day and tried to determine if dinner was even worth the hassle or if she should just shower and go to bed, she heard a loud thud in the corridor. Before she even realized it, her instincts had taken over and she was at the door with her wand in hand. When she carefully peered out, she saw her neighbor in a heap by the stairwell.

“Rose!” she exclaimed with worry and she hastily pocketed her wand as she rushed to the woman. 

“H...Hermione,” the voice was uncharacteristically soft and hesitant but the healer was still grateful to hear it because it meant that Rose was conscious and aware of her surroundings. 

Consequently, she gently rolled her neighbor over so that she could examine her better and find out what was wrong. In the process, Hemione could not help but to notice that Rose was wearing the black field uniform again...or that the color only emphasized the current unnatural pallor of her skin. Hermione’s healer training took over then and she checked the woman’s pulse, eye dilation, and breathing. 

“You’re really a nurse, then, yeah?” Rose muttered under her ministrations. “I had wondered, you know.” 

Hermione ignored that comment for the time being, however, in order to focus on what was most important. “Rose, what happened? What’s wrong?” she asked. 

The woman tried to struggle to a sitting position, but failed, and slipped back to the floor. “Call Mickey,” she said as she pointed weakly to a particular pocket in her cargo-style trousers. “Tell ‘im it was the Kritoniches. One must’ve scratched me at the end and I didn’t realize...” her voice trailed off. 

_Delirium,_ Hermione thought at first - even as she followed the woman’s directions and reached for her phone. However, her attention was immediately diverted from the indicated pocket when she noticed the long angry red mark that peeked out from under the edge of Rose’s vest top. When she pulled it up, she saw that it did indeed look like a scratch...a big one...and it had already developed infection. Hermione knew that probably meant a lot of bacteria had been introduced at the creation of the wound. 

“Rose...what did this?” she gasped as her mind whirled about what could have possibly caused such severe, yet slightly delayed, damage to the woman. After all, Rose had obviously left work, made it all the way home, and climbed the stairs before the reaction from whatever had happened earlier had finally overwhelmed her. Muggle Komodo dragons immediately came to mind, but there were none in London and Hermione seriously doubted that Rose would have had time to go to Indonesia and back...not without a portkey, at least... especially since they had exchanged pleasantries in the corridor just that morning. Magical Candezian Lizards could also have the same effect, but they were only found in the Australian Outback...so the healer knew that was not the answer, either. 

“Kritoniches,” Rose muttered again. 

“And what are those?” Hermione asked urgently as she pulled her shrunken medical bag from its hidden pocket. She knew that she was taking a chance at exposure by doing so, but she also knew that if she did not do something quickly then Rose could very well die in front of her. 

_Not on my watch!_ she thought fiercely. _I'm not losing anyone else!_ After all, her desire to save people was the main reason that she had decided to become a Healer after the war instead of going into the Ministry as she had originally planned.

Therefore, she muttered the spell that enlarged the bag and gave her access to her medical kit. She noticed that Rose’s eyes widened at the sight, and heard the muttered “Not _just_ a nurse...I _knew_ it!” However, Hermione would deal with the fallout from that later. Right now, she needed to know how to treat her neighbor. 

“What are Kritoniches?” she again asked firmly. 

Even in her weakened state, Rose looked reluctant to explain. 

“Rose, please...” Hermione begged. “We both obviously have secrets...but your life is more important. We’ll worry about the consequences later, alright?” 

At that moment, Rose realized her neighbor already knew that everything was not as it seemed with her. Obviously, Hermione was not exactly who...or what...she claimed to be, either. Despite that, though, she did not seem to mean Rose any harm. In fact, Rose could tell by the woman's concerned reaction that her current situation was quite serious. Plus, she also knew that if her neighbor took the news badly...or proved herself to be untrustworthy...she could always slip some of Torchwood's Level 6 Retcon in Hermione's tea later as an absolute last resort and make her forget about the entire encounter. 

Therefore, she made a decision and took a leap of faith when she sighed and answered honestly. “Pain-in-the-bloody-arse miniature space dragons is what they are...mouthy lil' buggers...take offense at everything,” she paused to take a shuddering breath. “Got into a bit of a tiff with a drunk and disorderly one earlier tonight when I told him to leave the planet. That obviously didn’t go over well, did it? He must have scratched me right as I stunned him.” She pointed to her now empty holster before her hand fell back to the floor. “It must have some kind of numbing effect, though, because I didn’t feel it then. Otherwise, I would have reported straight to the team medic.” 

_Space dragons?_ Hermione’s incredulous thoughts raced.

She knew from experience that Rose could simply be delirious and that she did not really know what she was saying. Yet, as Hermione thought about all of the suspicions she had previously had about her neighbor, she realized that she actually believed the woman was telling the truth. After all, she had once ridden a magical dragon herself. Therefore, why could there not be actual space dragons...even miniature ones? Why couldn’t Rose work for an organization that dealt with space creatures just as there was a Ministry of Magic department that dealt with magical ones? Accepting the offered answer at face value would certainly go a long way towards explaining a lot of the mystery that had always surrounded her neighbor. At any rate, it was not as if she had not seen stranger things in the Wizarding World before. After all, didn’t she herself specialize in the care of other magical beings besides witches and wizards...some of whom could actually cause a lot more damage than was currently present in front of her? 

Consequently, Hermione just shrugged her doubts away and got down to business. “Are Kritoniches venomous?” she asked briskly as she pulled items from her bag. 

Rose’s eyebrows rose in surprise at her neighbor’s professional tone and apparent quick acceptance of the knowledge bomb that had just been dropped on her. Perhaps she had underestimated the woman...and her particular secrets...and maybe she should have been trying to recruit her for Torchwood all along. However, since she no longer had to hide certain facts about her life, she answered readily enough. “We know their saliva is...but apparently their claws are, too.” 

“Or they just carry the bacteria from the saliva...I have seen that problem many times in werewolf attacks where the victim has been scratched but not bitten - even when the assailant was not completely transformed at the time,” Hermione replied knowledgeably. 

“W...werewolves?” Rose asked shakily. 

However, the stutter was not from fear, but rather her increasing weakness, instead. In fact, she was absolutely fascinated by the idea that there were apparently werewolves in Pete's World - especially after her adventure with the Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform in the other universe that had led to the founding of Torchwood in the first place. Therefore, she resolved to ask more about it later...assuming, of course, that there was going to be a _later_ for her. Hermione simply nodded at the query, though, and her confidence and obvious knowledge gave Rose renewed hope that she would indeed live another day to ask the woman those questions. 

“Either way," Hermione continued, "the problem is probably toxins in the bloodstream. They are making you weak and disoriented. Therefore, we have to neutralize them immediately before they affect your organs.” She confirmed her diagnosis with a muttered spell and a quick scan from her wand. At the Latin-sounding words...and the sight of the carved stick's glowing tip when it found the site of infection...Rose’s eyes twitched with interest.

 _It's magic!_ she realized with a start. 

That explained so much about the little things that she had always wondered about when it came to her mysterious neighbor. She had been almost positive from the start that Hermione was human. However, there was the occasional loud _crack_ of a sound or flash of light that came from the flat next door, the visitors that Rose could sometimes hear but had not seen arrive or leave, and even Hermione's extremely intelligent cat that looked almost-but-not-quite like an alien Flerken. Those things all sometimes conspired together to make Rose wonder if there was something going on across the corridor that was not quite human, but not exactly alien, either - and was therefore not covered by her particular area of expertise. Magic would certainly explain that mystery, though, and it was definitely another thing she absolutely had to ask the increasingly intriguing woman about later. At the moment, however, she was distracted by the events at hand when Hermione held up a small stone. 

“The bezoar can handle what is slowly poisoning you, but you'll have to trust me.” 

Rose hesitated for just a second since trust no longer came easy for her - even if she had decided to tell Hermione the truth earlier. However, when her vision suddenly blurred, she nodded her permission. After all, she did not have much choice in the matter at that point...and her magical nurse neighbor had seemed very competent thus far. 

“Good!” Hermione answered succintly.

Then, before Rose even had time to react, her neighbor had proved her correct when she put the stone in her mouth and Rose automatically swallowed it from the slight pressure the woman had applied to her throat at the same time. However, before she could even comment or complain, Hermione had poured a foul-tasting liquid down her throat, as well. 

Even though Rose sputtered indignantly, Hermione smiled. “I thought it would be better if I just got it over with – especially since you are not familiar with either the procedure or the potion. It’s what I often have do with my most uncooperative patients, too – especially the not-exactly-human ones.” 

“I’ll show you uncooperative,” Rose muttered, even as her mind could not help but to marvel at the _not-exactly-human_ comment and how it fit in nicely with her theory. However, at the same time she realized that her vision had cleared again and she would even swear that she could already feel the toxins draining out of her system. Therefore, she knew that the... _What had Hermione called t_ _hem?_... the _bezoar_ and _potion_ were obviously serving their intended purposes. It was clear that, despite the unusual methodology...even if it was magic...Hermione knew exactly what she was doing. 

Accordingly, there was no heat behind Rose’s words and she did not complain any further. In fact, she did not hesitate when Hermione handed her two more colorful potions - even though one bubbled in its flask. She just drank them down quickly and was grateful that they did not taste nearly as disgusting as the first one had. Then, she looked on with clinical interest when Hermione’s attention focused back on the physical wound on her abdomen. In a matter of minutes, she had applied a thick smelly paste to it and a clean covering that Rose marveled at when she realized that it was actually warm and tingly to the touch. She looked up at Hermione wonderingly. 

“It’s called Magimediplaster,” the healer responded to the unspoken question with a smile. “My friend George invented it. I know that it doesn’t have the most original name, but that’s probably for the best when you consider that he originally referred to it as the BooBooBuster.” She laughed gaily at the memory. Rose, who was rapidly feeling more and more like her normal self after her unorthodox treatment, was able to smile at the ridiculous name, as well. 

"At any rate,” Hermione continued, “give it a few minutes and you probably won’t even have a scar to show for your troubles today." Then she sighed, "Oh, how I wish that stuff had been around about ten years ago! Then I would not still have this.” Hermione lifted her blouse slightly to show the long purplish scar that diagonally bisected her abdomen. 

“I was hit with a nasty dark curse when I was sixteen,” she answered simply to the curious and sympathetic sound that Rose made in response to the sight. 

However, the sudden dark flash in her eyes told Rose that the woman had seen and experienced things that probably haunted her. Rose certainly understood that...just like she understood exactly why Hermione quickly shrugged away the darkness and offered her neighbor a hand off of the corridor floor with no further explanations. Some memories you just did not want to relive. Rose knew then that she obviously had much more in common with her neighbor than just the same building and floor number address. Therefore, she did not push the matter. She simply accepted the proffered assistance anyway, even though she felt much better, and let herself be led into her neighbor’s flat. 

Once she had settled down at Hermione’s table with a purring Crookshanks on her lap, she politely accepted a cup of tea. By the time Hermione sat down across from her with her own cuppa, Rose had decided to introduce herself again...but to do it properly and honestly this time. After all, the woman had just saved her life, so she deserved to know the truth. 

_Hopefully, that will also encourage her to do the same,_ she thought before she pointed to herself. “Rose Tyler, head of the Inter-Species Relations department and Field Team leader for the Torchwood Institute - Earth’s first line of welcome for...or defense from...intergalactic visitors.” 

Hermione just looked at her for a long moment, but there was still only one clear explanation that came to the witch's mind. “So... _aliens?”_ she stated plainly and Rose nodded in confirmation - impressed by the calm way the woman reacted to the news. 

Then, just as Rose hoped, her neighbor returned the favor. “Hermione Granger, Senior Healer specializing in nonhuman sentient species for Saint Mungo’s...the medical division of the British Ministry of Magic.” 

It was Rose’s turn to look serious as she digested that intriguing bit of information. “So... _witchcraft_ _?”_ she finally clarified and Hermione confirmed it with a nod of her own. She was pleased to see that while Rose seemed to be surprised by the information, she was obviously not shocked by any of it.

“And Wizardry,” she therefore added with a smile, "the good kind, of course!"

The two women then just looked across the table at each other until the-now-completely-healed-by-magic Rose slowly began to beam at the irony of it all that an alien expert and a witch healer had accidentally become next door neighbors. That smile evolved into a wide tongue-touched grin as she realized that she had not been this pleasantly surprised by anything since she had traveled with the Doctor. 

“That’s brilliant!” she exclaimed before she cheerfully added, “Hermione, I already knew that I liked you before...but I think that _this_ is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!” 

Hermione could not help but to laugh at the famous quote from the Humphrey Bogart movie, _Casablanca._ In fact, the familiarity of it only served to help her worries about possibly having to perform a dreaded _Obliviate_ on her neighbor to fade away completely. The other woman’s unexpectedly easy acceptance of her differences proved that such a drastic measure would thankfully not be necessary. She did not realize that Rose had already determined that Torchwood's particular brand of memory loss would not needed, either.

 _We aren't really_ _so_ _different after all, are we?_ Both women had realized with pleasure.

Even though it was quite late by that time, their exhaustion was then all but forgotten as the neighbors merrily clinked their mugs together in companionship and settled in for a long night of conversation and some much needed explanations. 


End file.
